


Stars

by Apparentlynotreallyfinnish



Series: Prompted ficlets [32]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Angst, M/M, Reminiscing, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21560131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish/pseuds/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish
Summary: Part of a series of prompted ficlets. Prompt: Stars
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: Prompted ficlets [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1359064
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Stars

Rhett steps into the back patio and sees a dark figure standing at the far end of his backyard. It’s late, and the outdoor lighting doesn’t reach that far, but Rhett can recognize the man by his stance alone. He pulls the door closed behind him, lowering the sounds of the party inside to a faint murmur of voices and a constant low beat of the music.

He treads through the yard, barefoot, getting his toes wet from the dewy grass. Link doesn’t turn even when Rhett stops next to him, brushing their arms against each other. Rhett looks at him, examines the features he knows so well. Link’s got a wine glass in his hand and a serious expression on his face. His chin is tilted up, but his eyes are closed.

Rhett tilts his face up too, wondering if Link’s been looking at something. They stand in silence for a beat.

“You know what I miss?” Link asks without opening his eyes. He knows it’s Rhett beside him like he knows that the grass is green. They’ve always had that – almost supernatural – connection.

“What?” Rhett asks. He’s genuinely curious. With Link, it could be anything. From a discontinued snack to a specific song, he hasn’t heard in ages. Or something from their childhood, a game or a place they visited.

“I miss the stars,” Link says with a deep sigh, opens his eyes and looks at Rhett.

Rhett’s gaze rises to the sky, and he frowns. The light pollution makes it nigh impossible to see anything in the night sky. Rhett lets his eyes wander and, finally, spots a bright light. He lifts his arm to point to it.

“That’s a plane, Rhett,” Link says before Rhett gets his mouth open. He wants to object, but as he squints at the faintly blinking light, he realizes that it’s moving too fast to be a star. He hums an affirmative and slips his hands into his pockets.

“Back home… Remember when we were kids? There were so many stars,” Link says, voice low and drawling – wistful.

Rhett smiles a little. Link’s on one of his moods again. Sometimes he gets too caught up in the nostalgia. If he doesn’t mention the river in the next few sentences, Rhett’ll be surprised.

“We used to lay at the river bank…” Link starts and Rhett chuckles to himself. “…and just stare at the sky. So many stars. It was beautiful.”

“There are plenty of stars in L.A. They’re just not in the sky.” Rhett’s attempt at humor is dismissed with an unamused scoff.

“I miss that. I miss that feeling. Feeling small. Feeling like in the grand scheme of things, we didn’t matter…”

“You don’t feel that now?” Rhett asks with a surprised laugh thinking of all the ways they don’t matter in this town where everyone fights to shine the brightest.

“It’s different now. It’s all about the clicks. All about subs and ‘punch that bell’ and merch sales and who has the best guests and… I miss when it was just us and the us that we were only mattered to…” Link pauses and takes a deep breath before turning fully towards Rhett. “I miss when we only mattered _to each other_.”

His eyes are blazing, illuminated by the city lights and something else Rhett’s too afraid to decipher. Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. Rhett feels like he’s about to cry. He kicks a rock and feels better for it. He feels better to have done something. As if by kicking things, he could make the ache inside him go away.

“We still matter to each other,” he says, voice small and shaky.

“We do,” Link agrees. “But sometimes I’m jealous of all the people that get a piece of you.”

Rhett bites his lip, swallows down a nervous laugh. He shouldn’t laugh at Link now. Shouldn’t laugh when he’s saying these things that are like a salve to an old wound. It’s been years – decades even – but the cut is still almost as deep as it was then. It’s been there ever since Rhett came back from Slovakia. Ever since Link sat on his front step and said with a cold, detached voice, the words that still make Rhett’s insides twist and shudder. “ _I asked her to marry me_.”

He remembers that moment clearly. He remembers how he wanted to explode when he heard the words. How he sat next to Link, frozen in place as his world crumbled around him. How he stared at a loose brick next to the step and wanted to throw it through a window. Wanted to gather the shards of glass in his hands and show them to Link and say: “See, this is what you’ve done to me. This is my heart now.” But of course, all he said was: “That’s great.”

Link’s still staring at him, waiting for a reply.

“I miss the stars too,” Rhett finally says. He ignores the tremble in his voice and continues. “Miss seeing them with you.”

Link’s lips quirk into a smile, and he closes the gap between them. His palm is soft against the back of Rhett’s neck as he pulls Rhett down to him. Right before their lips meet, Link whispers:

“I bet I can make you see the stars again.”


End file.
